A Mutual Tolerance
by star54kar
Summary: When the sun rose that morning it marked the beginning of a new era: one that was no longer dominated by the tyrannical oppression of an all powerful madman. Ironically, he had Harry Potter to thank for it. Warning for mention of a canon character death


**Title:** A Mutual Tolerance  
**Summary:** _When the sun rose that morning it marked the beginning of a new era: one that was no longer dominated by the tyrannical oppression of an all powerful madman. Ironically, he had Harry Potter to thank for it._  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Warnings:** Reference to a canon character death and mention of dead bodies.  
**Word Count:** 1,479  
**Beta:** The magnificent **queenb23more**, who is super speedy and worthy of worship! Any and all remaining errors are mine.  
**Author's Notes:** Written for the Beware the Ides of March Harry Potter Genfic Challenge at the **fandomfusion** community on Livejournal. My chosen prompts were _Plebeian_ and _"…all these you see are helpless and unburied."- Virgil, The Aeneid, Book 6, line 427_

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**A Mutual Tolerance**

Draco Malfoy awoke on the floor in the little corner of the Great Hall where he had gathered with his parents, feeling grateful to be alive. When the sun rose that morning, it marked the beginning of a new era: one that was no longer dominated by the tyrannical oppression of an all powerful madman. Ironically, he had Harry Potter to thank for it.

He rose from ground and did his best to tidy his appearance. His robes were crumpled and filthy, the edges scorched lightly from their close exposure to the fiendfyre. The world around him also began to stir and he ignored the increasingly hostile stares as the various people nearby began to notice their presence. His parents, by this time, had also arisen and he turned to face them.

"I'm going to see what I can do to help," Draco stated plainly.

He was fully expecting his mother to protest, as it was obvious that she was unwilling to have her only child out of her sight anytime soon, but to his great surprise, his father intervened.

"I think," Lucius said carefully, as he placed a calming hand on his mother's shoulder, "that is a wise decision, Draco." With a glance at their hostile surroundings he added, "Go on ahead, son. I do believe that your mother and I have a couple of things we need to…straighten out."

Nodding his acknowledgment, Draco made his way across the Great Hall. The crowd parted swiftly as he passed, giving him a wide berth as he headed over to where Longbottom was apparently beginning to organize some sort of re-construction team. The sudden silence that fell over the crowd as he approached was deafening, but Draco was careful not to give any outward sign of his uneasiness.

An angry growl broke through the silence as he approached the group. "Where the hell do you think you're going, Malfoy?"

"This is my school too, Finnigan," Draco spat back haughtily. "I can go where I please."

"Like hell you can, you filthy Death Eater!"

Draco froze in place as a warning hex narrowly brushed past him. He no longer had a wand and without one, he would be defenseless against the angry Gryffindor.

"Stand down, Seamus," Longbottom said sternly as he made his way forward. "Can't you see that he's unarmed?"

Slowly, and with obvious reluctance, Finnigan lowered his wand and Longbottom calmly and confidently made his way over to Draco.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" Longbottom asked softly.

Draco held the Gryffindor's gaze and stated simply, "I want to help."

A long moment passed in silence as Longbottom studied him carefully, as if searching for something in his eyes. Although Draco didn't know what the other boy was seeking, he must have found it because he nodded and said, "Okay then, Malfoy, let's find something for you to do."

~*~*~*~

Hours later, Draco found himself alone in a deserted classroom, with nothing but the bodies of the dead to keep him company. It was for the best he reasoned, to be working alone, as he carefully tended to those who had fallen in the Dark Lord's service. Those who found themselves on the side of the victorious wanted nothing to do with their slain enemies, having moved them to this secluded space so as not to lay them anywhere near the bodies of their heroic loved ones.

Two years ago, he never would have imagined himself doing anything so plebeian as washing the faces of the dead by hand, but there were few other options available to him without a wand, and in the end, he himself had chosen to perform the task he was now engrossed in. It was cathartic as well as humbling in a way, to know how easily he could have been one of those who lay forever silent and still in this room. Begrudgingly, it was yet another thing he had Potter to thank for.

He finished tending to the body of yet another anonymous Death Eater and gathered his bucket of water and pile of clean towels to move on to the next one. Tears sprang unexpectedly to his eyes as he knelt down and recognized the body of Headmaster Snape, lying in a filthy heap on the floor of the classroom. He fought hard against the urge to cry and threw himself into his task. He dampened one of his clean towels and gently began to remove the seemingly endless amount of dried blood that coated the skin of his former head of house. Draco was so absorbed in his work that he did not hear the door open and was startled as the familiar voice of his long time rival disturbed his thoughts.

"I was surprised," Potter stated, "when Neville told me I could find you here."

Draco's head shot up at the words and he met Potter's questioning gaze coolly. "And why is that, Potter?" he asked challengingly.

A heavy silence passed before Potter answered pointedly, "I guess that I assumed you would have thought tending to the dead was beneath you."

Draco looked down again at the body before him. He was tired, his hands were covered in Snape's blood, and he found that he didn't have the energy to spar with Potter. Looking up once again at Potter's face, he conceded truthfully, "I might have once, but all these you see are helpless and unburied, Potter. No one else wants to deal with them, so it might as well be me."

Potter nodded and moved further into the room until he was standing only a short distance away from where Draco knelt by Snape's body, drying his hands on a towel. Draco watched Potter as his eyes gazed sadly down at their lifeless professor.

"I was with him you know," Potter said softly, his voice cracking with emotion. "I couldn't stop it, and I watched him as he died."

Potter's eyes abruptly returned to meet Draco's as he said with conviction, "He doesn't belong here."

Another long silence passed between them before Draco sighed wearily, "Perhaps, but he doesn't belong out ithere/i either."

Potter acknowledged his words with another nod and silence fell over them once again. Finally, Draco couldn't stand it any longer and asked the question that was burning at him from the moment his rival arrived, "What do you want from me, Potter?"

"I came," Potter answered as he reached into his robes, "to give this back to you. It's yours and I don't need it anymore."

Draco stared in astonishment as Potter pulled out his own Hawthorn wand, the one that had been used to finally put an end to the Dark Lord, and offered it to him. He reached out in disbelief until his fingers wrapped themselves around the presented handle. At once, he felt the familiar tingle of magic as it rushed up his arm and through the rest of his body. It was as if a piece of his soul had suddenly been returned to him, and Draco felt completely overwhelmed by Potter's highly unexpected generosity.

"Why?" Draco whispered, fighting once more against the tears that had sprung unbidden to his eyes.

"Because I know what it feels like to lose your wand," Potter answered with a shrug. "I wouldn't wish that feeling on anyone, Malfoy. Not even you."

Draco nodded, feeling utterly speechless, and Potter returned it before he turned and began to walk away. He had nearly reached the door when Draco abruptly sprang to his feet and called out, "Potter!"

The Gryffindor paused and as he turned back to face him, Draco said simply, "Thank you."

His thanks were not merely for the return of his wand. They were also for saving his life, Goyle's life, staying with Snape as he died, and for putting an end to the Dark Lord's madness once and for all. He didn't say all of that, but Potter seemed to understand it all the same. A smile quirked up at the corner of Potter's lips and he said, "You're welcome, Malfoy," before turning again and heading on his way.

Draco watched silently as Potter left the room. The day had brought a new beginning, a new world, and a fresh opportunity to start over again. While far too much had passed between them for he and Potter to ever be friends, Draco knew that something profound had shifted between them in that moment.

It was the birth of a new found respect and the beginning of a mutual tolerance. As he stood alone in the makeshift morgue, he took a deep breath and used a cleaning spell to quickly finish up the rest of his task. His magic flowed effortlessly, like a warm, comforting friend, and Draco ran his fingers lovingly over the smooth familiar wood of his wand and smiled. It was enough.


End file.
